Into the Mind's Eye
by PhoenixScribe
Summary: A new dawn, a new story...a new Erik. This is Phantom of the Opera like you've never seen it before. See it through his eyes, your eyes...and through the Mind's Eye.
1. The Voice of Seduction

**A/N:** _This is my new creation. It is different to say the least. I have the way I want it to go locked away tight so please bear with me for this chapter. It may seem a little confusing, but I assure you that it will explain itself as time goes on. Once again, Phantom of the Opera is owned by Gaston LeRoux. Without him, none of this would be possible. In later chapters, all lyrics will belong to the talented and wonderful Andrew Lloyd Webber. I do not own any of them. There are a few characters that are in here that are mine but the others I do not claim to own. That is my disclaimer._

_It is a new dawn, a new story, a new Erik. He is much different than in 'From the Light…Into Darkness'. If you guys are looking for another romance, this won't be it. It is a total 180 from what I have previously written. It's definitely a different route for me. So please read and review as always. And maybe, some time soon, you will hear from the new Erik. He is eager for you all to read._

_The sun is setting. Let our story begin…_

**Into the Mind's Eye**

**Chapter 1 – The Voice of Seduction**

Perspiration dripped down his face. His mind willed his eyes shut but they would not comply. Iridescent eyes stared into the darkness. A single candle was lit but did nothing for his vision. Screams echoed around him – male, female, adult, child…

"They are not for you to understand."

He cringed as he heard her voice travel to him in the darkness. It surrounded him – smothered him.

_Please, God…anyone…save me from this Hell…_

He could feel warm blood trickle down his hands. His wrists had been bound for hours, perhaps even days. He had lost track of time in the darkness.

_I need you…_

His eyes closed as he heard _her_ voice. A smile crept onto his face as the soft whisper of a woman's voice filled him.

"The only way you will smile is if I am the one to cause it."

A light touch caressed his cheek. He tried to move but his body seemed to exist in a catatonic state. Shivering, he felt a fingernail cut through his flesh.

_I will not scream…_

"You will scream when I wish it. You will tremble when I touch you. You will bow before me before I am done with you."

_Torture…this is all it is…torture…_

"You are a creature of the night. I have seen you wander – meander through the dark alleyways of my city. Did you think I would not watch you? That I would not see the darkness that stays inside of you?"

_You are not dark…you are my light…_

The girl's voice filled him once again, making his heart race and his blood sing. _Her_ voice was as if an angel were singing to him from above. It was the only thing that tied him to this plane of existence.

"I am always watching."

He screamed a blood-curdling scream. It was as if his mind was off in a distant land, taking him away from the pain. A hot spear pressed against his flesh. He could hear it sizzle and made him feel as if his skin was on fire.

"Please…" He did not want to plead but he was becoming tired.

"Say it."

Would he say what he needed to, to save his body? Or would he keep quiet to save his soul?

"Say it and I will spare your life."

"I…"

_No! Please, do not say it._ The girl's voice pleaded with him, bringing him back from the darkness that the dark goddess was sending him to.

"Say it!" She screamed. It echoed of the walls and nearly made his eardrums burst.

He kept silent – knowing now that his life was at an end.

"Very well." She paused – giving him time to breath. "Leave us!"

He could hear footsteps and a door closing. They were alone now – alone in the darkness that wanted to claim him.

"Oh, my magnificent creature…" She placed her cold hand on his chest. Feeling him tremble under her touch, she smiled. "…you have no idea what I can do to you."

"Please…"

"There is no more begging for mercy. I have no pity for you. You are under my control now. There is no one else to turn to."

"She will save me."

Her laughter turned his heart cold.

He continued to say it – as if it were a silent prayer to any God that would hear him. "She will save me. I know she will."

He jumped as he felt her breath hot on his neck. Both of her hands were now on his chest. Her fingertips were near the skin burned just moments before. All she had to do was reach out…

"She is not coming for you. I am your salvation. I am your end. I am…" Kissing his neck, he cringed. "…everything. You will bow to me. And once you do, you will cause the woman's life to end."

"No…"

"She will be the death of you, I promise you that."

Closing his eyes, he began to listen to the voice. He heard the girl – saw _her_, felt _her_.

_Please…save me…_


	2. An Angel to Guide Me

**A/N:** _I'm glad that you guys are enjoying my new story. It took awhile to get the gist of where I was going with this. Hopefully you guys will understand a little more about the first chapter through this. If not, then ask away. Although I won't be able to reveal all of my secrets, maybe I can clear up some of the stuff that's confusing. Please don't be discouraged if it confuses you. It won't be revealed until the end of what's really going on. Hang in there with me and all will be told in time._

_Until then, enjoy chapter 2. As always, read and review. I love to hear it all. Thank you to all of you who have read Light and are now reading this. It is definitely a change of pace for me. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 2 – An Angel to Guide Me**

_Paris – 1863_

"_Please…save me…"_

_She sat in the darkness. Her only companion was the lone candle that was lit in front of her. It barely made a difference in the darkness that wanted to claim her._

_All of her tears had been shed. There was nothing left to cry with. Her father had been dead for almost six months. She had lived at the opera house for some time now. Madam Giry had made sure the ten-year-old girl had whatever she required. _

_She closed her eyes, remembering what her father had told her before he passed._

'_I will send you an Angel of Music.'_

'_For me?'_

'_For my angel. You deserve an angel. The one I will send you will be talented. He will bring heaven to earth for you, Christine.'_

'_Oh, daddy…please, all I need is you. Do not leave me.'_

'_I can no longer stay. Find joy and music. Let it fill you as it did me.'_

'_And my angel?'_

'_I will send the angel to you. You will be protected, Christine. This I promise you.'_

_Christine smiled as she recalled her father's words. She would be protected by an Angel of Music who had not yet arrived but she knew that one day her father would keep his word._

"_Christine…"_

_Her thoughts turned to the voice that seemed to fill the room. It consumed her – claimed her as nothing had before._

"_Close your eyes."_

_Doing as the voice instructed, Christine closed her eyes. Music filled her mind and beautiful images swirled around her. She felt as though she were floating on a cloud._

"_There is nothing to fear. I am here."_

"_Angel?"_

"_I want you to listen to my voice. Let it guide you when you need help. Let it teach you when you are willing. I am your Angel of Music. I will give you all you need."_

_Her father's promise had not been broken. He had sent an angel when she needed one the most._

"_Now, get some sleep. Your lessons begin in the morning."_

"_Of course."_

_Opening her eyes, she stood and looked around the small chapel, but darkness shrouded her angel._

"_Will I ever see you?"_

"_In time, my child. All in time."

* * *

_

Persia – 1854

"In time, my child. All in time."

Erik rolled his eyes as he watched the Sultana smirk at a young child in front of her. Her touch made the child smile but made Erik cringe. He knew what the Sultana would do to the child. It was only a matter of time before the child contracted some unknown illness that her Priests would conjure up. It would take days, if not weeks, for the child to die. It would be a tortuous death. But to the Sultana, it was simply a way to make the day go by.

She watched the little boy scurry off. Looking at Erik, she smiled. "You are grimacing."

"You are about to torture an innocent child."

"Remember, you are only here because my husband allows it."

"I am here to fill a void of some sort. You keep me here, surrounded by walls only a mountain climber could climb. You keep me in prison."

"I keep you to myself. Is that so wrong?" The Sultana approached him. He watched as her eyes masked an evil smile behind them. Her hands reached out and touched his chest. He stiffened and she smiled.

"A man of your nature could not survive outside of my walls."

"A man of my nature would not survive anywhere."

"How true." She circled him like a lion stalking its prey. "I am gentle with you, Erik. Why would you deny me the one thing I long for?"

"How long will you be gentle with me before you throw me to your Priests?"

She laughed. "If you are to die, you will die by my hand. I will not call upon my Priests for that honor. I have a new chamber being built. Maybe I will initiate it with you."

As the Sultana stood in front of him, Erik saw red. There had been rumors circulating the palace that the Sultana was building a torture chamber. Her husband denied her nothing. He feared her as much as everyone else in Persia did. She was the true ruler. Everyone bowed before her.

"Remember, Erik…that you are under my control." Her hands ran down his chest and rested on his hips. "I will soon have you begging for mercy."

His breath caught as she touched him. He closed his eyes, silently praying for some sort of miracle…

"My Sultana, the Sultan wishes to speak with you," said a voice from the door.

Erik watched as flames ignited in the amber orbs of the Sultana. Erik sighed in relief as her touch left him. He turned his head and saw a beautiful young woman standing behind him. She was scantly clad with ornamental markings adorning her body.

The Sultana watched as Erik took in the view behind him. She leaned in next to his ear. "I will return for you." She glared at the slave girl before exiting the rock garden.

Erik turned just in time to see the young woman begin to leave.

"Wait…"


	3. Introductions of a Delicate Nature

**A/N:** _I know someone was wondering if this was going to be an EC fic. To tell you the truth, there really can be no true category. It's EC. It's EOC. It's just all over the board. The end will have everyone wondering what happened. And I'm hoping that's the reaction that I'll get. It definitely is different._

_As for the Sultana, she's called a different name in Susan Kay's the Phantom but her essence is still here. She's evil – the very definition of the word. I hope you guys will begin to see who the He and the She is. Those parts are going to be very important later on. Hopefully this chapter will shed some light on what's going on. As always, enjoy the chapter. Read and review, I love to hear it all._

_The sun is setting. Let the story begin…_

**Chapter 3 – Introductions of a Delicate Nature**

"Wait!" He nearly screamed it.

His shirt had been ripped from his body. The flesh she sought was exposed for her to do with as she wished.

"What is it?"

"What do you wish for me to do?"

"I told you, your pleas are useless now. I will do with you as I wish whether you grant it or not."

He could see her eyes even in the darkness. They seemed like flames in the dark – flickering just like the flame of a candle.

The concrete wall behind him was no longer cold. The chains that bound him to the wall were beginning to slice through his flesh.

_And she has not even begun her torture yet…_

"I remember the night you bowed to me the first time. Do you remember?"

He slowly nodded his head. It was a night he longed to forget.

"My husband knew I needed something to keep me satisfied. He had all of his little slave girls and I had no one. I was growing restless."

He could feel her move in the darkness. She moved like a cat in the dark, it was her home. It consumed her down to her soul.

"Who knew that a masked man could please me so?"

He held his head high, remembering everything happened to him before he had ever met her. "It was not pleasure you wanted. It was my suffering you longed for."

* * *

Persia – 1854

"It was not pleasure you wanted. It was my suffering you longed for."

Erik watched as the young slave girl bowed before the Sultan. The words she spoke would not go unpunished. She was outspoken and did not fear the rule of the Sultan or the Sultana. The Sultan tolerated her because of what he expected of her. The Sultana despised her because of her beauty.

He watched from the shadows. The Sultana would punish him if he was ever seen inside the palace walls. He was kept outside, in the 'Garden of Eden' as she called it. It was there that his fate was decided. There was no Adam and Eve. There was only the Sultana.

"You insolent little…" The Sultana's voice seemed to crack like thunder. Erik cringed as he listened.

"My dear wife, I will handle the outspoken child." Rising, the Sultan stepped in front of the young slave girl. "I will handle her the only way I know how."

The slave girl shook – her dark skin and features blanching from the fear that she felt. She hung her head and her auburn hair hid the tears that would eventually fall.

"Come." The Sultan held out a hand. She did not grasp it. "Now, before I decide on a harsher punishment."

_No…_

Taking his hand, the slave girl stood. Her eyes did not meet his but saw the anger in the Sultana's.

The Sultan led her out. Erik knew he would hear the screams of the young slave girl sometime in the night. She was the one, out of all the girls, that was 'used' the most. The Sultan held a special spot in his bed chamber for her. Erik cringed at the thought of the young girl being used in that manner.

Erik knew that the Sultana felt his presence. It was only a matter of time…

"Come to me…"

* * *

_Paris - 1865_

"_Come to me…"_

_Christine obeyed as always. Her angel was always right. There had never been a time when he had been off-key or hit a wrong note. She was a dancer and he knew the steps she needed to perform._

_She pirouetted toward him. Christine could only see his silhouette in the darkness. In the two years Christine had known him, she still had not seen his face. A brief introduction to him had been through his voice alone. But she longed to see him…_

"_Christine."_

"_Please, Angel, I am growing tired…"_

_She closed her eyes just as his hand grasped hers. Erik watched Christine's startled expression as he touched her hand. "You may retire for the night."_

"_Thank you, my Angel of Music."_

_He watched her run toward the dormitories. She had filled him as though she was from a dream he never awoke. Erik smiled._

"_A brief introduction…"

* * *

_

"A brief introduction…my poor sniveling fool. It is only a matter of time."

He grimaced, not knowing what was coming. She could have done any number of things to him. The things he feared, she knew. The things he despised, she knew. All she had to do was utilize them and he would beg for mercy.

"I know what you desire. I know what you fear. Tell me, what do you think would please me more? Watching you suffer from pain? Or watching you suffer from pleasure?"

_Please, God…show me some mercy…_

His eyes shut tight as her hands worked their way slowly down his torso. He shivered beneath her touch.

"Good…"

Her hand hovered just above his waist. His breathing became heavier. She smiled like a Cheshire cat. "In due time."

She withdrew her hand and he sighed with relief. He would prefer pain over pleasure. But he knew she would not grant him that wish.

"Rest. The sun is beginning to rise. Tonight, I will give you a glimpse into what I want from you."

He felt her move from the room. The lone candle burned until it extinguished itself. Rays from the morning light had begun to filter through the tiny window above his head.

Looking down at his body, he sharply drew in his breath. His flesh had been burned, slashed, and touched. He knew this was only the beginning. It was an introduction. An introduction to what was to come.

_The sun rises…_


	4. A Slave to Destiny

**A/N:** _I'm hoping you guys are still with me. Tell all of your friends to read. I know, I know…cheap plug. It's different, I know. But it will all be worth it in the end. As always, read and review._

_The sun is setting…let the story begin._

**Chapter 4 – A Slave to Destiny**

Persia - 1854

"The sun rises…and it sets. It isn't in control of its actions, much like you." The Sultana circled him. Erik could feel the heat emanating from her body. It was as if he was being burned alive.

"I merely wanted to see…"

"The slave girl. Yes, I know this. She is…exotic."

Exotic would not be the word he would use. She was beautiful and intoxicating. Just the sight of her made his heart quicken and his breath catch. It infuriated him to know that the Sultan would touch her – caress her soft skin…

The Sultana's hands on his neck made his blood run cold. Even the thought of the slave girl could not ease his mind. The Sultana evoked emotions within him that he wished he could hide. She knew she made him quiver. But there was a force behind her eyes that made him want to bow in front of her. Maybe it was the glimpse of evil that enticed him.

"What is it?" Her hot breath made him shudder.

"It's nothing."

"You can picture her, can't you? See her in your mind?"

"Yes."

"Can you also see what the Sultan is doing to her?"

His eyes closed at the thought. A single tear rolled down his cheek. None of the slave girls ever spoke against the Sultan until the girl with the auburn hair. They had all been quiet until she had arrived at the palace.

"You are weak and pathetic. You should be punished yourself."

As she stepped in front of him, he saw the fury in her eyes. It danced and called out to him. She grabbed his throat and Erik began to choke.

"I will not allow a slave to make his own destiny. The slave girl belongs to my husband. You, my masked servant, are mine. Do not make me remind you again."

She shoved him and Erik stumbled backwards, rubbing his throat.

"Think of the slave girl. Think of her and remind yourself that you will succumb to me whether or not you think of me. Imagine it's her skin that you are caressing. Imagine it is her when you are with me. I do not care. But know I will have you bow before me."

Erik watched as the Sultana turned and left, her bodyguards following suit. He knew she was a seductress. It was only a matter of time before he would bow before her and submit to everything she desired.

But it was the slave girl he longed for. He imagined caressing her skin, hearing her voice, and watching her eyes glaze over with pleasure.

"No!"

Erik's eyes closed as he heard the slave girl scream. The Sultan was giving her the punishment he felt she deserved. Erik wanted to be her white knight but all he could offer her was a white mask.

_I have failed you…

* * *

_

_Paris – 1870_

"_I have failed you," her voice barely above a whisper. Christine knew she had failed her angel. Again, she had been denied the lead of the newest opera. As much as she had practiced, they continued to reject her._

"_You have not failed me, my child. The managers do not recognize talent when they see it."_

_His voice caressed her – soothed her. She knew he was disappointed, but not so much with her as with the managers._

"_My angel…"_

"_Yes?"_

"_I will not fail you again. I will be the lead of the next opera."_

_The darkness seemed to brighten. She knew he was smiling. "I will assure you the next opera, Christine. I will do anything to make sure you are the lead."_

"_But Senora Giudicelli…"_

"_She is nothing compared to you. Believe in me…"_

_She watched as a leather-gloved hand appeared from the darkness. Grasping it, she smiled. Her angel would guide her, protect her._

"_Trust me."

* * *

_

"Trust me…" She laughed.

He felt as though the Devil had brought his Hell to earth.

_Is this how I am to die?_

The sun had set long ago. The two women that had taken care of his wounds had said nothing – did not even look at his face. He knew they had been instructed not to look at him. The only woman that could set her eyes on him was the one who held his fate in her hands.

"Come now, you must have missed me. The girls said you whimpered as they tended to your wounds. I punished them for hurting you so." The laughter continued. "After all, that is my job. No one may hurt you but me."

"I have done nothing…"

"You have done everything!" Her voice silenced the night air. "And I shall take my payment out of your soul."

He trembled as her hands met his chest. The wounds from the night before had not yet begun to heal. His mind could not fathom what she would do to him next.

"I promised you yesterday that I would tell you what you have in store…"

He could see her smile even in the darkness. Stifling a scream, he watched as the moonlight illuminated a blade with blood dripping from it. He had not felt it slice his body.

"I will hear you scream my name – tonight and every night after. Your screams will join hers."

"You will burn in Hell for this."

"I do not believe in Hell. I do not believe in your God. I believe in something much more powerful…" Leaning next to his ear, she caressed his bare chest and let the dagger drop from her hand. "…me."


	5. Change of the Tides

**A/N:** _Thank you guys for reviewing. Mind Erik wishes for me to convey how deeply he is moved by your comments. Please keep them coming. Tell everyone to read! We love to hear from new readers as well as the faithful._

_The sun is rising. Let our story begin…_

**Chapter 5 – Change of the Tides**

_Paris - 1870_

"…_me. Think of me fondly…when we've said goodbye. Remember me once in a while – please promise me you'll try…"_

_Erik was growing tired of hearing the Italian opera singer. Her voice was shrill and unyielding. It made his blood boil. Christine had been denied yet again. Rage consumed him. His Angel would not be denied any longer._

_He unwound the rope in front of him and watched as the backdrop descended on top of Carlotta. Screams emanated from all around. He smiled, watching the newest managers rush to her side as the rest cowered in fear._

'_This is just the beginning.'_

_Pulling the note from his cloak pocket, he let it flitter to the floor just as he watched Madam Giry step beneath the rafter he was standing on._

_His demands would be met. If they were not, he knew the kind of Hell he could bring to the Opera Populaire. It was only a matter of time before they knew true rage._

_But his Beauty, his Angel, would be denied no longer._

"_Let her sing for you, Monsieur. She has been well taught." Erik could hear Madam Giry insisting. He knew that Madam Giry would not fail him._

_He stayed in the shadows and watched as Christine stepped toward the spotlight she had so long deserved._

"_Think of me…think of me fondly…when we've said goodbye…"_

_Erik smiled. His eyes closed in ecstasy. Her voice filled him as never before. It made his blood sing, his heart quicken…_

"_Remember me once in a while…"_

_Leaning over the railing, he watched as the spotlight seemed to swallow Christine. It was a place he would never be. The darkness called to him – beckoned to him. He would allow her into the light for the time being. Soon she would be his. She would submit to him as others already had._

_There was still time. There was time for him to cast his spell on the young dancer._

'_My Angel…'_

_Christine stepped farther into the light letting it envelope her and fill her as her Angel's voice had. Smiling, she looked out at the empty seats imagining her Angel of Music sitting there – watching her._

"…_please promise me you'll try."

* * *

_

Persia – 1854

"Please promise me you'll try." Tears flowed down her cheeks. Her knees stung. Rocks were piercing her skin. She could feel the warm blood running down her calves. It was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.

The Gods were not listening to her pleas. They were damning her here on earth. It was as if her Karma in a past life was being meted out in this life. Did it truly carry over into the next?

Her sobs disturbed the silence around her. The night sky usually calmed her, the stars above her guide to making her soul peaceful.

She felt it. In the darkness there was movement. Slowly rising, she could feel someone moving toward her slowly, seductively.

"Who's there?"

There was no answer. Her heart began to pound like a drum in her chest. After her day with the Sultan nothing should have scared her. But whoever this was scared her.

"Hello?"

A flash of white made her stumble backwards and fall to the ground. As she tried to crawl away, a man's face appeared wearing a white mask.

"I'm sorry…please…don't be frightened…"

His voice stopped her. It seemed to sing to her without any song. Her eyes watched as his sea blue eyes seemed to grow iridescent in the moonlight.

"I heard you weeping."

"What are you doing in the gardens? I thought I was the only one here."

"I live here," he said as he held out a hand. Erik watched as the slave girl trembled. "Please, don't be frightened. I won't harm you."

There was sincerity in his voice –she somehow knew she could trust him. Her hand reached for his outstretched hand. His hand was cold yet calming. He helped her to her feet.

"You are not from this land." She prodded.

"No."

"I'm sorry. I have to go…"

He wouldn't release her hand. Erik drew her close and saw fear fill her eyes. He placed his hand on her cheek and watched as her fear slowly subsided. She closed her eyes as he placed his cheek against hers and closed his own eyes.

"Do not fear me."

* * *

_Do not fear me…_

He could hear her voice in his head. It was mere moments after that he felt the sting of a scorpion.

"The scorpion will not kill you. Its poisonous venom has been removed. But the stings alone will cause great pain."

He grimaced as the creature struck again. The scorpion reacted to every move that he made. She placed another on his chest.

She had repositioned him and he had been too weak to resist. The cold floor beneath him had been a relief, until she had placed the first scorpion on his wounded chest.

She knelt beside him. "They are vile creatures."

"Much as you are." He grimaced as they stung again.

"It is the change in the tides. You will submit to me."

"I doubt it." He felt her remove the scorpions from his chest. His eyes could barely focus. The pain that wracked his body sent every other sense away.

She mounted him, resting upon his stomach. She placed her hands on either side of him and leaned in until her chest met his. She gently kissed his neck and he closed his eyes in fear and ecstasy. She was a siren. Her touch, her voice, her eyes drew men to their deaths. Would he follow the same fate?

"Scream my name."

He would not do it. His throat had gone dry. It had been hours since he had a drink of water.

"You will scream it." She bit his lower lip and he quivered. His resistance was being brought down slowly. Soon, he would not have the strength to deny her any longer. "Why deny me?"


	6. Unwanted Company

**A/N:** _Thank you all for your great reviews. Please continue to read. Erik is on vacation for awhile and is letting me dive into some other stories that I've been trying to write. Trust me, I'm way ahead of schedule on this one. So without further ado, here is the new chapter. Read and review as always. Tell everyone you know about this story!_

_The sun is setting. Let our story begin…_

**Chapter 6 – Unwanted Company**

_Paris – 1870_

"_Why deny me? Christine, we have known each other all of our lives."_

"_Things are different now…"_

_How he wanted to smash his hand through the glass. Rage engulfed him._

'_Who the hell does this boy think he is!'_

_Erik watched as the Vicomte knelt in front of 'his' Angel. She had been magnificent in her performance tonight. But access to Box Five had been denied to him. The new patron had occupied his normal spot while he lurked beneath the opera house, listening to his Christine sing with grace._

_His rose had never left her touch. She still clutched it in her hand._

'_Petals…silk, like her hair…'_

_The boy wanted her affections. Could she deny him?_

"_Come with me to supper."_

"_I cannot. My Angel of Music wants me to rehearse."_

"_Your Angel of Music is only a dream – a fantasy."_

"_No, Raoul…he's real. He is flesh and blood."_

_Erik watched as the boy stood and smiled down at his Angel. His blood was boiling – his fists clenched at his sides._

"_Come with me to supper, Christine."_

"_But, Raoul…"_

"_No buts. I will send for my carriage. Ten minutes, Little Lotte."_

_Christine stood as the door shut behind Raoul. It was all she could to, to hold back a sob. Her Angel of Music would not stand for what had just happened. If he saw…_

_She watched as one by one the candles flickered and died. Her room grew cold and dark._

"_Insolent boy…this slave of fashion…basking in your glory!"_

_He let his voice surround her – filling her with music. The boy's presence would not go unpunished._

"_Ignorant fool…this brave, young suitor…sharing in my triumph!"_

_He watched her shudder in fear. Soon she would tremble beneath his passionate touch and not from fear…_

_Christine began walking toward the mirror…"Angel, I hear you! Speak…I listen…"

* * *

_

"Speak…I listen…sometimes…" Her smile turned his heart to stone. All she wanted was to possess his soul. His body was just a stepping stone to gaining full control.

"Please…" He voice broke with a plea. He had no dignity left – it had fled along with every ounce of pride he had.

"Soon, my love." She touched his flesh with her fingernails – making them dance as if they were spiders crawling over his body. His body bucked beneath her, the tension beginning to mount. "There he is."

He grimaced, knowing she got the reaction out of him that she had wanted. "No, this is not the man…"

"You are not a man. You are my slave. There is a definite distinction." Her fingernails scraped across his skin, causing him to moan. "I can bring you pleasure or pain. The choice is yours."

This time his body bucked from pain. Her fingernail had pierced his skin. It felt like a dagger which had not been sharpened. It was dull like the ache in his heart.

"You still long for her," she hissed into his ear. "In time, you will leave her to the past. I am your future. But the pain…oh, the pain, my love, is in the present."

He screamed in agony as she laughed. The pain he felt was joined by her kisses on his temple which she slowly began trailing over every inch of his exposed flesh.

"Pain is fleeting. But love…" Her lips hovered over his. "…is absolute."

* * *

Persia – 1854

"But love…is absolute…"

The slave girl laughed as she turned into his embrace. "Love?"

"You don't believe in it?"

"It doesn't exist within the palace walls. Inside there is only lies, deceit, and betrayal. I have experienced all of them."

"I did not always live within these palace walls."

The slave girl looked at him with emerald eyes that sparkled like the jewel adorning her naval.

"You are a stranger to me."

"I can be your friend."

"You want something more than that," she sighed as his hand caressed her exposed skin. "I can see it in your eyes."

"My eyes tell you nothing."

"You would be surprised." She stared deep into his eyes, as if searching for something deep within him. "Your soul is tortured."

"I could have told you that."

"Tortured not by whatever lies behind your mask…" She said as she gently caressed his unmarred cheek. She frowned as she continued. "…but what lies within your heart."


	7. Watched From Afar

**A/N:** _I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. Erik is still on vacation but sends his love. Once again, read and review as always. I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story. Tell everyone you know!_

_The sun is setting. Let our story begin…_

**Chapter 7 – Watched from Afar**

"…but what lies within your heart."

_Your heart is as black as the night sky. It can't contain love…_

He closed his eyes as he felt her lips touch his. She wanted passion and she received none. Her hands joined in the fight to win. He moaned as her tongue demanded entrance. Against better judgment he parted his lips.

_What am I doing? Have I sold my soul to the Devil?_

Her hands caressed his body, finding their way up to his wrists which were bound by chains. She felt the warmth of his blood from the steel chains that had cut his wrists and sighed as she continued to tease and taste with her mouth.

She pulled back and smiled as he lifted his head for more. She caressed his cheek with hers.

"Say it."

* * *

Persia – 1854

"Say it."

The slave girl shook her head. "What is it that you want me to say?"

"Your name, so that I may stop thinking of you as just 'slave girl'."

Her smile lit up the entire garden more than any star that Erik had seen. He continued to caress her back, causing goosebumps to appear on her arms. Erik smiled at the knowledge that he was causing these sensations to happen to a woman who barely knew him.

"Asiya."

"A beautiful and exotic name."

"It means 'one who tends to the weak…one who heals, comforts, and consoles'."

He watched her eyes dance in the moonlight.

"It is still a beautiful name."

"Perhaps the gods sent me to you."

"Perhaps."

"Do you believe in fate?"

"I believe in things unseen."

"You are a mysterious man, Phantom."

Erik looked at her in shock. "Why did you call me that?"

"You lurk in the shadows. You tread where others fear to. You seem more ghost than man."

The words stung him. "I have a name."

"Then I shall use it." She waited with patience, but he didn't speak. "Will you tell me your name or shall I continue to call you Phantom?"

Asiya realized that Erik was looking behind her and turned to see what he was watching. He sensed that someone was watching them. In the highest window of the palace he saw a shadow looking down at them.

"Who is that?"

Erik grimaced because he knew exactly who it was. "The Devil in disguise."

* * *

_The Devil in disguise. Possibly the Devil's daughter…_

He had played right into her hands. The kiss had sent him to a place he hadn't wanted to go. The darkness laughed at his insolence. It knew it was only a matter of time before he succumbed once again.

"Damn you."

"Damnation is something only you believe in."

"Don't you know he could be watching?"

She laughed as she trailed his lips with her finger. He exhaled as she brought her face close to his once again.

"He's never watching. I am in full control of him, just as I am of you."

"You are not in control of me."

His eyes glazed over as she touched him in places that drove him mad. "I beg to differ."

"Stop."

"Never." Looking up at the moon, she watched as it shone through the window and bathed his body in light. "I take what I wish, when I wish."

"You got what you wanted."

"Not yet…" She kissed him – hard and desperate.

Desire washed over him. Her spell had been cast. He would succumb to her. He would let her do as she wished to his body, his mind…

"…your soul." He closed his eyes as she repeated what he was thinking. "I will take you from the light into the darkness."

* * *

_Paris – 1870_

'_I will take you from the light into the darkness.'_

_The mirror in her wall slid open. The Angel of Music stood before her in resplendent glory, illuminated by the flickering candlelight. Christine stood mere inches from him, her eyes wide in astonishment._

_He held out his hand to her – black leather fingers waiting to be touched._

"_Come to me."_

_There was no hesitation. She held her breath as she put her hand in his. Even through the leather he could feel the warmth of her hand. He momentarily closed his eyes from the exquisite sensation._

_She was his now – forever. Damn the boy. He had nothing to give her. Erik would give her everything – his mind, body, and soul. His music would bring the world to its knees. His love would bring a woman to his heart._

_He no longer watched from afar. He took what he wanted, when he wanted. The managers could not stop him. The opera house was his and so was the star within its walls._

'_Mine.'_


	8. Under Your Spell

**A/N:** _I have come off of my vacation and have decided to take over the beginning of each chapter. I would like to thank all of you readers for your comments. I assure you that things will begin to heat up very soon. Enjoy this chapter._

_The sun is setting. Let our story begin._

_Erik_

**Chapter 8 – Under Your Spell**

"Mine."

He began to wonder how many different positions she could put him in. It had been the wall, then the floor, now a table. But the chains remained the same. The wounds had not yet begun to heal as he felt her wrap the cold metal around his wrists.

"I have given you what you wanted."

"You have given me but a taste."

"What more can I give you?"

He hissed as she placed her hand on his waist – her fingers dancing lower and lower…

"I remember a time when I had to win your affections."

His heart beat in time with the beating of her fingers.

"It was the challenge that I relished."

"You never liked it. You hated that my heart belonged to someone else."

_Closer…closer…_

His breath caught as her eyes closed. She smiled – her battle won.

"I hated that your body belonged to someone else. I never cared about your heart."

He struggled against the chains as their clinking sound danced with her laughter. He longed for her to touch him. It was a fire that was slowly smothering him and she knew exactly how to make his flame soar again.

"How long was it? How long did you long for her?"

He didn't answer. His answer would only bring more pleasure – more pain.

"Succumb to me." She whispered. "And you'll live as you've never lived before."

* * *

_Paris – 1870_

"_And you'll live as you've never lived before…"_

_Erik extended his hand and helped Christine step from the boat. He knew how deeply Christine had fallen under his spell. Seduction was the key. The boy only tempted her with wealth and objects. He would give her a lifetime of music and…_

"_Softly, deftly, music shall caress you…Hear it, feel it…secretly possess you…"_

_He felt the warmth radiating from her body. Christine was so close all he had to do was reach out…_

'_No! Woo her…seduce her…and she will be whatever you wish…'_

"_Open up your mind…let your fantasies unwind in this darkness which you know you cannot fight…"_

_The candlelight danced, making Christine even more beautiful. Erik could envision Christine lying in his arms – sated._

"…_the darkness of the music of the night…"_

_He walked around his organ toward her, his eyes lingering on her body. She was the very definition of perfection. Her pale skin, dark curly hair, full lips, and slim body left him breathless._

"_Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world! Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before! Let your soul take you long to be!"_

_The lair walls rattled as he sang with the passion inside of him. Christine's eyes were full of lust and longing._

"_Only then can you belong to me…"

* * *

_

Persia – 1854

_Only then can you belong to me…_

The Sultan smiled as he watched the dancers in front of him. Their hips moved like they were controlled by a higher force.

_The gods knew what they were doing when they made these beauties…_

He looked over at the Sultana and watched as she tapped her fingers on the arm of her jewel-encrusted chair. Her slave boy seemed to be under the spell of the scantly-clad women as well. But it was actually Asiya that had both of them in a trance.

She was weaving a spell of seduction. Her body moved as if it were water, fluid and lithe. Her emerald eyes called out to them – beckoning them to partake of her forbidden pleasures.

The slave girls took their bows as the room erupted into applause. Just as Asiya turned to leave, the Sultan called to her.

"Asiya!"

Erik watched her body tense at the sound of his voice. Her head bowed for a moment before turning back to him. Erik watched as she walked toward the Sultan squaring her shoulders with courage and determination. She bowed before him.

"Yes, my Sultan."

"Retire to my chamber."

Her eyes quickly met the Sultan's. "But, Sultan…the other girls…"

"…are not my concern. See to it that you are in my chambers when I arrive."

She swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, my Sultan."

As she left the room Asiya's eyes met Erik's. What seemed like an eternity had been only a few seconds, yet in that time he saw her fear and worry. He watched her leave, her pace slow and refrained. She dreaded going to the Sultan's bedchamber, but not to go when summoned was certain death.

"I am retiring, my love."

The Sultana rolled her eyes in response as the Sultan rose and left the room. Erik watched as the Sultana sauntered toward him.

"Let him go to his whore…"

Erik cringed at the Sultana's crude words. His goddess deserved better.

The Sultana held out her hand, showing the Hindu markings that ran from the side of her hand and up her arm. "Sing me to sleep?"

"I am not capable…"

"You will be capable or I will find some other ways for you to satisfy me tonight."

Erik sighed as he accepted the Sultana's hand. He knew that the Sultana, although devoid of a heart, had once been mortally wounded. It would take a great deal to dissuade her.

If Asiya could endure the pain, so could he. The Sultana would not want him for long. His heart had found someone else. And soon, this would overpower anything the Sultana asked of him.

Erik silently thought of Asiya as he walked with the Sultana to her room.

_Let the dream begin…_


	9. Sleeping Desires

_It has been a long time since an update. I hope that you are still interested in the story. It has lost ground for quite some time but I'm hoping that I can stir something inside the writer that is writing my story. Please inspire her and leave feed back._

_The sun is setting. Let our story begin again._

_Erik_

**Chapter 9 – Sleeping Desires**

_Paris – 1870_

"_Let the dream begin…let your darker side give in…to the power of the music that I write…"_

_He led her down the staircase away from his organ. The words he continued to sing resonated through her mind._

"…_the power of the music of the night!"_

_Erik stopped in front of the red velvet curtain. Drawing it back, he watched Christine's expression and her skin turn deathly white. The mannequin she looked at was an exact replica of her. She fainted, falling into his arms. Erik knew one day the wedding dress the mannequin bore would be worn by the true angel._

_Carrying her gently in his arms, he ascended another flight of stairs and walked into his private chamber. Laying her upon the blood red velvet sheets, Erik watched as his angel slept. She had never looked more radiant._

_His leather-gloved hand lingered on her face – caressing her cheek. He longed to lie next to her – to feel her silky skin and feel every curve of her body. The nightdress she wore was enough to drive him mad with desire. He felt every part of his body tense as he continued to gaze down at her body._

_His hand on her cheek would have to do for now. He knew that Christine would come to him of her own accord soon enough. Erik would have her – mind, body, and soul._

"_You alone can make my song take flight…"_

_Her hair was fanned out on the pillow. He could not feel the silky strands through the gloves he wore, but all he needed to do was close his eyes and imagine. He had spent many a night just imagining the feel of her hair, her skin…_

"…_help me make the music of the night…"_

_Erik rose before he did something he would regret later. Just the sight of her made him drunk with desire. He would bide his time. Soon, he would not have to enchant her with words or with music. Soon, Christine would come to his lair without thought or pretense._

_Pulling on the golden rope, he watched the black lace curtain become a barrier between him and the woman he loved._

'_Is it love? Or desire?'_

_It didn't matter to him. He had an angel sleeping in his bed. In the morning, she would rise and Erik would make her understand the feelings he had had for years._

'_It is only a dream…'

* * *

_

_It is only a dream…_

He shut his eyes tighter. The caress he felt on his body was not from the woman who made the darkness her own. This touch was lighter – softer. There was tenderness behind it and not the desire to hurt him.

_Please do not shut your eyes._

Forcing his eyes open he saw the silhouette of a young woman standing before him. He felt both of her hands on his chest. There was warmth and not the icy chill of the darkness.

_I am here. There is nothing to fear._

The feathery touch of fingertips dancing on his chest made him want to return the favor. This desire brought thoughts to the surface that he knew should have been kept hidden. Desires that no mortal man should even think.

_I am coming for you._

It was a statement he knew could not be true. Only the Dark One was coming back for him. She seemed immortal. As many times as he had killed her in his dreams, she continued to return to torture him – killing him from the inside out.

_Please…do not let her consume you. I am the one you have longed for. I am coming for you._

Why did God mock him so? Where was the salvation he sought? He longed to be free. He longed to be in the arms of the woman he loved.

"You're damning me!"

Tears streamed down his cheeks. Yet he dared not shed a tear in front of the Dark One. She would laugh at him – mock him.

_I am trying to set you free._

His eyes closed in ecstasy as he felt the touch of her lips on his. They were soft, warm, and inviting. He wanted to be free of his chains to touch her body – to respect the Goddess that stood in front of him.

He granted her access. Her tongue danced with his – giving him pleasure that he had not felt in days.

But as soon as he thought he would die from the fire building within him, she was gone. His eyes slowly opened and all he saw was the darkness. He struggled against the chains which sliced his flesh and punished him for even thinking he could be with a creature such as her.

"The darkness mocks you."

He stopped struggling when he heard the Dark One's voice. Once again his body responded to her touch. He knew his reaction was partially because of the desire inspired by the Goddess' touch, for the woman who was basked in light. The desire wasn't for the woman who tortured him.

"It is amusing to watch how people dream. What desires arise from a sleeping need deep within." She continued to play with him – torture him as she trailed kisses up his torso. "How the light beckons one forward, but it is the darkness that consumes them."

He closed his eyes, still remembering the touch of the Goddess – her caress, her lips, her body…

"You have succumbed to the darkness. Now that you have, you will succumb to me."

He quickly shook his head – denying what he feared was true.

"You no longer belong to the light. You belong to me!"

* * *

Persia – 1854

_You belong to me!_

That's all Erik could hear in his mind as he walked down the corridor of the palace. He could hear the Sultan's voice. He yelled as Asiya screamed. It was not pleasure he heard in the beautiful dancer's voice – it was fear.

He stopped in front of the door and placed his hand on it. Erik knew what he had to do.

_There is no going back if you do this._

Pushing open the door, he paled at the sight before him. Moonlight illuminated the dancer's body on the bed. She was curled into a ball, staying as far away from the Sultan as possible. She had always been that way in his mind after she had _pleased_ the Sultan.

Erik was thankful that all the Sultana had wanted was a song. He had left only a few moments after she had fallen asleep.

Now it was time to save his sleeping angel. Approaching the bed, he noted the curves of Asiya's body under the silk sheets. Her hips, her chest…

_Save these thoughts for later!_

He gently placed his hand on her arm and she jerked away from him.

"Asiya…"

Slowly opening her eyes, Asiya looked into the eyes of her White Knight. "How did you…?"

"Do you wish to leave?"

"Yes."

"Then come with me."

"But the Sultan…if he sees you…"

"The Sultana provides much worse punishment. I don't fear the Sultan."

"He tore my clothes." The moonlight made the tears on her cheeks glisten. "I have nothing to wear."

"I will keep the sheet wrapped around you." Wrapping her in the silken sheet, Erik drew her close. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

Erik lifted her from the bed. He held her close as she rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. The closeness of her body to him made him tingle with desire.

"Please…if you save me tonight, I will repay the debt ten-fold."

"You owe me nothing, Asiya." He began to carry her out of the room. "You have already repaid me more than I could possibly imagine."

"Take me to the Garden. I must ask the Gods for forgiveness. The Sultan has done things to me that no man should ever do to a woman."

Erik walked toward the Garden. If she only knew the thoughts he was having, she would have quickly fled his arms as well.

"May I ask the name of my savior?"

"Erik…" His voice was hoarse – he did not want her to know of his lingering desire.

"Erik, I will grant you one wish."

They approached the Garden. He gently placed her on the grass as she clutched the sheet tighter around her body.

"Tell me of your desires and I will grant you the one wish you have been longing for."

Erik looked at the angel standing before him – bathed in moonlight. He knew what he wanted to ask but would settle for what his heart desired.

"A kiss. I only wish for a kiss from an angel as radiant as you."

Asiya smiled and slowly began toward him.

_I will wake from this dream. The Sleeping Angel will rise…_


	10. Show Me What Lies Beneath

**A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. I know that it has been some time since I have updated. It might be awhile again while I gain my footing back on the story. Please let me know if you wish for me to continue. Read and review. Thanks!**

Chapter 10 – Show Me What Lies Beneath

_Paris - 1870_

'_The Sleeping Angel will rise…'_

_Erik could feel her – sense her every move. The candlelight danced over his worn sheet music. He could not find the right notes before but now with her here, he had found inspiration._

"_Who was that shape in the shadows…?"_

_Christine descended the stairs to reach the man who had haunted her dreams. Her Angel of Music was seated at his organ – his throne. The organ was majestic and beautiful just as were the notes he was playing._

_His shoulders were broad. He was much larger than Christine had ever imagined. Curiosity overtook her. She wanted to know. Christine Daae would not be denied._

"_Whose is the face in the mask…?"_

_Her hand gently caressed his bare cheek. She watched his eyes close in ecstasy. Her fingers gently grasped the edge of the mask._

'_I must know!'_

_With one graceful move, Christine had removed his mask – his life._

_Erik quickly stood, sending the organ bench and Christine crashing to the ground. His eyes held fury behind them._

"_Damn you! You little prying Pandora! You little demon – is this what you wanted to see?"_

_Christine cowered in fear on the floor. She wanted to be lost amongst the sheet music and drawings. Christine didn't want to see the anger in his eyes. All she wanted was to look upon her Angel of Music and understand why he hid from her._

"_Curse you! You little lying Delilah! You little viper – now you cannot ever be free!"_

_He longed to be away from her – away from the world he had avoided for years. Erik sent a candle bra crashing to the ground. He didn't need to see the fear in Christine's eyes. Her sobs were all the signs he needed._

"_Damn you…curse you…" Erik took a deep breath. He didn't want to frighten his angel. "…stranger than you dreamt it…can you even dare to look or bear to think of me…"_

_Christine watched him as he walked along the shore of the vast lake that he had brought her on. His long black robe billowed around him. The anger was still apparent in every step he took but Christine noticed it was slowly dwindling._

"…_this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell but secretly yearns for heaven…secretly…secretly…Christine"_

_He peered inside of the private room he had made for 'Christine'. The white wedding gown still looked beautiful and he could just imagine it on her. Erik turned and noticed Christine had been crying as he had continued his tirade. His hand covered the deformity that plagued his face._

"_Fear can turn to love – you'll learn to see, to find the man behind this monster, this…" Erik sat beside her – almost begging her to forgive him. All he wanted was for her to understand. "…repulsive carcass, who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly…secretly…oh, Christine."_

_She watched him sit there – ashamed and alone. All he wanted was his mask – a piece of leather that separated him from being normal and being shunned. Tears continued to stream down Christine's cheeks as she held out the white mask._

_Erik took it, making sure he was gentle. Turning from her, he gave himself back his life. Standing, Erik knew that Christine had to return. She would come back in time. Soon she would be his. But for now…Christine needed to return._

"_Come, we must return…"_

"Come, we must return…return to the time where you worshiped me."

He cringed and nearly whimpered at her touch. It was if her hand was a flame, burning his skin with every caress.

"I never worshiped you."

"Oh, you did. You just don't remember."

"I think I would remember if I…" Her finger touched his lips and silenced him.

"I touched you in places you could never imagine."

It wasn't possible. _Was it?_ He could hardly remember a few hours ago let alone years. It had been so long…so very long.

"Has my touch grown that cold? Has your desire to awaken every part of me left you? Where is the man that I wanted in my bed every night?"

He groaned as he felt the steel chains loosen and set him free. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the light. The moon was casting its glow through the small window that his prison provided him. It was freedom he desired. But he feared that was not the reason why he was set free of his binds.

"I want to feel every part of you. I want my hands to caress every inch of your skin."

He tensed as he felt her fingers grow close to his mask. His body was too weak to respond as she ripped it from his face.

He screamed as she laughed. Rushing to the corner of the room, he cowered in fear – the darkness inviting him in.

"I have seen it before – many times. Why hide from me?"

"Why did you do it! How could you…?"

"If I am to torture a man, it must be a man and not a mask. If you will not touch me, I will touch you. I will torture you _without_ your mask."

He sobbed, the moonlight betraying him – mocking him. It gave away his location. His sense of safety was gone. His mask had been the last part of him that she had not taken. Now he was truly hers.

"Please…Christine…" His voice pleaded to some unseen force.

She stopped. The name resounded in her ears as if it would consume her without thought or warning. He cowered in the corner, whispering _her_ name over and over. She now knew his weakness.

She began toward him…slowly…seductively…

Persia – 1854

She began toward him…slowly…seductively…

_God, help me…_

Erik watched as Asiya stood inches from him. He could smell lilacs and other fragrant flowers all over her. He sighed as he looked into her eyes.

"I owe you my life, Erik."

"And what do we have here?"

Erik's eyes widened at the sound of the Sultana's voice. Peering around Asiya, he saw the Sultana sauntering into the Garden.

"Two lovers in the middle of my Garden of Eden. How appropriate."

He stepped in front of Asiya, protecting her from the punishment the Sultana would inflict. Erik knew it was only a matter of time. But he had hoped Asiya would have returned to her room before the Sultana had found him.

"You were to warm my bed, masked man."

"He doesn't answer to you!"

The Sultana's eyes glowed amber as Asiya spat out her comment. Erik's hand reached Asiya's and squeezed.

"She didn't mean that, Sultana." He slowly walked away from his goddess and near the woman who held their lives in her hands. "I was merely…"

"I don't want your boring speeches. You sang me to sleep and used that to set the slave girl free."

Erik watched as the Sultana moved between him and Asiya. Her amber orbs continued to take in the hunched form of the young woman wrapped only in a sheet. The Sultana seemed to sparkle in the moonlight as the sheer garment she wore barely covered everything that needed to be.

"Welcome to my Garden of Eden, slave girl. What is it that the Christians believe, Erik?"

He couldn't speak. His heart was in his throat while his mind was reeling from what was happening. The Garden that had once been his sanctuary was now becoming a death trap.

"That the Christians' God sent down a Man and a Woman – Adam and Eve. They were the beings that began it all. But it was a snake…" The Sultana made sure that it sounded as though she were hissing. Asiya cowered in fear. "…that gave them the apple that would send Mankind to its fate."

Turning, Erik watched as the Sultana's eyes seemed to call to him. He began to kneel in front of her but the touch on his chest stopped him cold.

"Imagine me as that snake…" She smiled – a devilish grin on her face. "…the one that will bring Mankind to its knees."

Asiya's eyes seemed to plead to Erik. Tears had begun to stream down her cheeks. Erik could do nothing but stand there. He was paralyzed in fear.

"I am God." Her hand began to caress his face. "Isn't it convenient that I have both Adam and Eve in my presence?" Her laugh sent shivers down Erik's spine. "Let me show you the apple that will destroy the both of you."

With one swift move, the mask was ripped from Erik's face. He screamed as his hands covered the one thing he did not want Asiya to see. She was beauty and he was the beast. The Sultana's laugh filled his ears as his hands fumbled to hide his deformity.

The Sultana walked along side of him – leaning close enough so only he could hear. "Your punishment will be great, masked man. Tomorrow night, you will please me and it will not be with song. As for the girl…I will leave the punishment up to the Sultan. If you ever disobey me again…it will be more than a mask ripped from your body."

She strode away, taking his life with her.

Asiya began forward but Erik began to back away into the darkness.

"Erik, please…don't run."

"You can't see me…you can't see me like this!"

He ran into the darkness that beckoned to him. The light that he found in Asiya would be gone by dawn. She would be repulsed by his deformity. The Sultana had already punished him.

_She has sent me to Hell._

Erik crept through the darkness of the palace corridors. He would not allow himself to be seen.

_Life and death go hand-in-hand…_


End file.
